Tangible
by Lucky Dice Kirby
Summary: [ZexionDemyx][Oneshot] Sometimes, he really thought he was crazy. More and more now than ever, and also less and less. Because now there was something tangible for him to touch and see and hear, and it wasn’t all just in his head.


_We're Nobodies, Demyx. We don't get happily ever afters. Not even real people do. Life's not a storybook._

_Who are you?_

_Why are you so optimistic all the time, IX?_

_What? I hate this, stop talking while I'm sleeping, guys, I don't understand anything, nothing makes sense…_

_Are you done with all these questions, IX?_

_No. (Yeah, for one, what the fuck are you talking about? Nine what?)_

…

_Don't you love me? (Huh? What?)_

_I can't. (Okay, I'm confused.)  
_

* * *

  
"Seriously, stop talking when I'm sleeping."

_Whatever you say, Demy-poo._

"I'm serious, Larxene."

_It's not _my_ fault you have a messed up subconscious. Ever crossed your mind that you're just crazy?  
_

* * *

Demyx just gave up and dealt with it, going to all the shrinks his parents sent him to if he ever mentioned it (And trying to ignore the dreams). They meant well, they really did. They were his _friends_, didn't they understand that? No, of course not. How could they? He didn't even understand it himself, he didn't even know what all of them were talking about half the time. Something about getting their hearts back (As if you could lose your heart and survive. Psh.), and something called Organization XIII. Most of the time, they seemed to be talking amongst themselves. When they _did_ address him, it was usually to tease him or make fun of him, or sometimes he would just join in with their banter. 

He just learned to keep quiet about it. Being stuck in the whole therapy and counseling scene didn't make him want to go back. Ever. It wasn't much fun. And he would probably still be there, if his parents hadn't pulled him out, against the advice of all the therapists and shrinks. But they wanted so much for him to be normal.

Then one day, Demyx met Zexion.

* * *

The day Demyx first heard _them_ (What was he supposed to call them, anyway?) was the happiest day of his life. He was nine years old, and he'd just gotten home from school. He had plopped himself down in front of the TV, when he heard it. A voice, not coming from anything. Just there, in his head. He could tell that it was only in his head, not coming from the surrounding area or something. He had no idea how he knew, he just _did_. Instinctively, or something like that. 

_Missed ya, Demyx. Nine years, seriously! Well, at least we've got somewhere to be now, instead of just floating in oblivion._

* * *

He never really understood any of it. Some days, he thought maybe he really was crazy, but he felt like he knew the-- people? Things? What were they? The word floated into his mind. Nobodies. What? Demyx shook his head roughly, and tried to pay attention to the math lesson. He _hated_ it when that happened. Thoughts, phrases, ideas… They would all just randomly appear in his mind sometimes, unbidden. It was way too creepy. 

_I'm the only one who tries to explain anything at all to you, IX. Be appreciative_.

Demyx ground his teeth in frustration. He hated that, too. It seemed that all of _them_ could hear his thoughts, which he did not much like. Privacy, dammit!

_Too bad. I said it before, be appreciative. At least I let you know _something

He wished he could glare at the voice. Zexion. The most condescending, though from what he heard he was that way to everyone. And for some reason he couldn't for the life of him figure out, it felt as if he knew Zexion the best of all of them.

He didn't know any of them, of course, so it didn't really matter.

* * *

While it was the happiest day of his life, it was a blur in his memory. The talk, the banter, everything… It all swirled together in his mind. And when he tried to remember that day (August 13, 1991), other memories, completely unrelated ones came to mind. Ones that he was sure weren't his memories at all. Black coats, white halls, impossibly high chairs… None of it made any sense at all. 

Of what the few real memories he could remember, it had been hard for him at first, really hard, trying to sort out whose voice was whose. There were eleven of them, then, and then about a year later, another voice was added. After a couple months, the last one came. She was the meekest (Not really saying much), and the nicest. She didn't seem to enjoy messing with his head as much as the others, which was nice. And for some reason he never fully got, if he was having trouble remembering something, whether it be an event or an answer for a test, she could usually help him.

Hey, if the voices in his head could give him test answers, they couldn't really be that bad.

* * *

The best day of his life soon had a competitor, however, though it took Demyx a while to figure that out. 

Demyx was just sitting in class, waiting for the bell to ring and first period to start.

_Hello, Demy-kins. How _are_ you doing today?_

Demyx gave a soft sigh, and rolled his eyes. Larxene. _What is it?_

_You'll _never_ believe what happened_.

_Shut up and stop being a bitch, Larxene. _

You_ shut up, runt._

_Hey, don't talk to him like that!_

_Axel, do-_

_Look, would you _please_ just tell me what you all are talking about?_ Demyx thought as loud as he could. It was so frustrating. Why could they never get to the _point?_ They would always end up insulting each other. Which he never really minded it a good deal of the time. It was pretty fun to listen to. It only bothered him when he had a question he wanted answered.

_If you wait for the neophytes to tell you, he'll be back already. Impudent little… Well. Zexion is gone._

Demyx drew a blank. He couldn't have heard right. But he always understood _them_ perfectly, especially Vexen, who rather reminded him of one of his droning teachers.

But…Zexion? Gone? It couldn't be. The thought made his mind reel, for reasons he didn't quite understand. Stupid fuzzy thoughts. And dreams. Ugh. Something in his subconscious was nagging him, something with an _answer,_ but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

_Ha! Look at him! Seems a little sad, don't you think? Aw, poor little Demy-kins, all sad because his wittle_ _friend left him_.

_Shut up, Larxene._

_Oh, did I hurt you feelings, Axel? I'm _ever_ so sorry._

_I'm really sorry, Demyx._

_Oh, this is just great. Little Naminé trying to comfort him, this is just so cute. I think my teeth are rotting. Pansies._

_Larxene, it does us no help for you to insult the other members. It will only break our unity, and—_

_Well, what's the point of anything now? It's not like we've got much to do at the moment, if ya'd take a look around, dude. Just wait for whatever happened to Zexion to happen to us, am I right?_

_If you're that bored, Xigbar, why don't you play a game of poker with me? No one will ever play with me anymore._

_As if I'd play cards with _you, _dude…_

Demyx tried to block them out as best he could, and stared blankly at the notes on the board. His pencil tapped a rhythm on the desk without him even noticing.

He tried to just pay attention to all the little things in the room, that fly in the corner, those two girls giggling over their crushes, that boy walking into the room just now--

Wait a minute. That new kid (It felt odd to think of him as kid, for some reason he couldn't explain, he could never find explanations for anything…) He didn't go here, as far as Demyx knew. But he looked so _familiar_…was it some law of nature that nothing in his life could make sense?

The bell rang just then, and Mrs. Lockhart came to the front to stand by the boy.

"Hey, class. This is Zexion. He's a new student at the school, and I'm supposed to have him introduce himself. Zexion?"

Demyx stared. It couldn't be him. He probably really _was_ hallucinating now. How could Zexion disappear from his head and into his school like that? It wasn't possible. It just wasn't, no matter how much he wished it. He shouldn't try to delude himself. (Let's just ignore the delusions that he heard voices in his head.)

"Hello. My name is Zexion Westra."

That voice. It was him. It had to be, it was him, he was here, Zexion was _here_--

Demyx blinked a couple times, and then fell over in a dead faint. So that's what all this voice shit had gotten him. Hmph.

* * *

Sleeping was really hard sometimes. Apparently, _they_ didn't need to sleep (Vexen had said it was because they had no bodies, and therefore didn't need time to recuperate, or something like that.) Often he would stay up into the ungodly hours of the morning talking—well, thinking, really—to them. This could be problematic, seeing as he had to wake up at seven to go to school. 

Staying up late was normal teenager-esque behavior, of course, so no warning bells went off with his parents. He might even have stayed up late anyway, but it was even more annoying when he actually wanted to sleep and they would not. Shut. Up. He would ask, over and over again, to just be quiet for _ten minutes_ so he could fall asleep. He had weird dreams if they talked while he was sleeping, but he had weird dreams anyway, memories of things he didn't remember.

* * *

The first thing he saw when he woke up was Nurse Garnet (She had told all of the students to call her that when she had started that year, since her last name sounded like she was some kind of royalty or something) bustling about, not really doing anything, but trying to fuss over him nonetheless. She wasn't really a fussy person, but it made her feel more useful. When she saw that he was awake, she stopped by his bed and smiled at him. 

"Feeling better?"

"I guess so…what happened, anyway? My head is _killing_ me."

_For the record, kid, dying is much worse than a headache._

_II, he has in fact died. We all have, with the exception Naminé and Roxas._

_Yes, we did. Just because we were part of Sora and Kairi, doesn't mean that—_

_Blah blah blah. Words, Roxy. _You_ didn't feel a thing when you died, it was old age or some shit like that._

_I think I've made it pretty clear I do not, in fact, appreciate being called Roxy. Besides, it's not _my_ fault you burned yourself up._

_Actually, it is._

…_Shut up._

"You fainted. Probably stress, or lack of sleep. Guess that's what high school entails. Try to get some rest, okay? I don't think you should really be back in school after that. And it _is_ a nice easy way out of your classes."

_You know, if I ever get to be…Like Zexion, I guess, I think want to be a school nurse._

_Wouldn't you rather grow flowers with me, little Naminé?_

_Who'd want to work with_ you_, Flower Boy?_

_You little…_

Demyx sighed, lying back on the cot, tuning _them_ out out of habit. Zexion… Zexion was here. Okay. He could work with that. It'd be nice to have one of them be real, concrete and tangible and _there_, anyway. It would feel less like he was just a complete loon then.

_You could still be hallucinating that he was one of us._

_Don't be such a downer, Lexaeus. Sheesh._ Why was it that he was the only optimist of the group, anyway?

_I was merely telling you the truth._

"Here, this should help your head," Garnet said, handing him an Advil and a little cup full of water. Demyx took it gratefully (Plus, he always thought those little cups were cute). His headache was only going to get worse if _they_ kept it up in his head.

"Hey, Garnet! How's it going?"

Demyx sat up, coughing to hide his laughter when he saw it was Zidane in the doorway. Zidane was a senior, repeating a year because he'd been suspended for fighting too many times to be able to graduate. He'd had a rivalry with another student, Kuja, and had gotten into fights with him on an almost daily basis. _They_ had often made bets on his fights, and then cajoled Demyx into watching them so they could see the outcome.

It was well known throughout the school that Zidane had a crush on Nurse Garnet. He had always been flirty with pretty much any girl he came across, but it seemed like he really did like her. He notoriously stopped by her office in passing periods and after school had let out, and also during classes, on several occasions. Only the ones on the more useless end of the spectrum, of course (Read: math class.)

"That's _Nurse_ Garnet, Zidane. And I'm sure you're supposed to be in class."

"Hey, I'm already repeating this year, what difference does it make? I told the teachers I was going to the library, anyway. I've got study hall this period," Zidane answered, leaning on the doorframe, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"That's not the point. You need to get an education, not hang around the nurse's office. You've suddenly developed an interest in becoming a school nurse, is that it?"

"Aw, c'mon. It's not like I got held back 'cause I was failing my classes. I already know all this stuff. And Kuja managed to graduate, the bastard, so I won't get suspended for fighting. Hey, after I graduate, maybe we can go out, you're only three years olde--" He was cut off as Nurse Garnet slammed the door in his face.

"Hmph!"

Demyx collapsed into fits of laughter, along with all of _them_. She really did act like a kid sometimes. She was only twenty-one, just out of college, after all.

Nurse Garnet turned, and gave Demyx a stern look until he stopped laughing.

"Try to get some rest," she said irritably, stalking over to her desk.

* * *

He was in those white, oppressing halls again. Didn't the owner of this place have any style? Really, all white? Then he was in the room with the chairs, way too high for anyone to get to them, but then he was in one, and the darkness he had stepped out of disappeared. Wait, darkness? And he looked over, and—Wait! One of them had their hoods off. It was…Zexion.

* * *

He woke with a start, jerking up to a sitting position. 

"You guys need to stop talking when I sleeping," he muttered.

"Oh, good, you're awake. What was that you just said?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

_But it's just so much fun to torture you._

_You have dreams anyway. What exactly are we supposed to do besides talk when you're sleeping?_

_Roxas's got a point, for once._

_Bastard._

"It's only a couple minutes to the bell, so you might as well go grab your stuff from your locker now. I'll write you a pass. You'll be okay walking home?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," Demyx said flippantly.

_Hey, Demy-kins—_

_Don't call me that. Sheesh, how hard is it to just call me Demyx?_

_--Tell her she ought to go out with that blonde guy. Did you see how much she was blushing when he was talking to her? _

_Why?_

_Cause it'll totally mess with her head. It's the kind of thing wittle Zexy would do, come to think of it…_

_Dude, that's harsh. Reminding him of it and all—_

_Do you _have_ to be such a bitch all the time, Larxene?_

_Psh, says _you_, Roxy-poo—_

_Hey, only I'm allowed to call him that—_

_Only if you want me to cut off your—_

_Fighting will get us nowhere, XII, XIII, and only constant vigilance will—_

_Will you all just _shut up_? I'm telling her, Larxene, okay? But only if you stop ranting at each other. So no messing with my head or anything in retaliation._

_We'll see._

"Hey, Nurse Garnet, y'know…"

"Hmm? What is it, Demyx?"

"Maybe you should take Zidane up on his offer. I mean, he really does like you and all."

"Ha, ha, very funny," she said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "Take you pass and get your things." She handed him the pass and gestured to the door. When he glanced back as he was leaving, though, Demyx thought she looked rather flustered.

_Well, maybe they really will get together now. That'd be nice._

_Ha, Naminé. You are _such_ a sap. Little witch._

_Don't—_

_Stop fighting, XII. Superior has told you before._

_Uh-huh. Sure, Saix. Anyway, Larxene, don't talk to her like that._

_Oh, stop protecting you little _girlfriend_, Rox—_

_Larxene, don't you dare call him her—_

_STOP. FIGHTING. XIII. XII. VIII._

_Geez, Saix._

* * *

Before _they_ came, Demyx was lonely a lot of the time. He didn't have many friends, really. Nobody, least of all himself, was sure why. He was plenty outgoing, but there was just no one that he wanted to be friends _with_. It was really his fault for not trying hard enough, probably. His parents were getting worried about him, never having any friends over… 

It worried them even more when he started telling them about all his friends who talked to him all the time, even in school, and they never got in trouble! At nine he was past the age where having an imaginary friend was normal, let alone eleven or twelve or thirteen. They sent him to a shrink, until Demyx got old enough to realize that it was in his best interest to lie and pretend he couldn't hear any voices, just pretend it had been imaginary friends all along and he simply hadn't wanted to let go of them…

The shrink, Dr. Strife, hadn't bought it at all (Guess he was smarter than that.) and still checked up on him every once in a while, but his parents wanted so much for him to be normal, they took him out of therapy and believed he was fine, just perfectly wonderfully normal. People only hear whatever it is they want to hear. Besides, Demyx acted way to happy most of the time. His parents assumed that if he was really hearing voices, he'd be more upset about it, like any sane person. They never really saw the flaw in that logic.

* * *

When Demyx got home, he dragged his books upstairs into his room and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor. He grabbed his guitar (_They_ had told him he ought to have a sitar, but he had no idea where in the world he could find one, or what that even was) and started playing a melody, not anything in particular he knew, just random notes that changed every time his thoughts took a new turn. Playing music always helped him think more clearly. Partly because _they_ would shut up so they could listen. Or start a shouting match because one of them wouldn't stop babbling. Luckily, no shouting match was ensuing in his head this time, because he really needed to think. 

Okay, so lets try to lay out the facts. That's what Zexion and Vexen and the other scientist types did. So. Fact one. He heard thirteen people's voices in his head. Well, twelve, now, actually. Fact two. One of the voices had disappeared, hence there being twelve. Fact three. That voice had appeared as a new student in his high school.

…And the conclusion that gave him was that he was hallucinating. Ugh. He wasn't good at this analyzing thing. Whatever. He'd just play it by ear, that was more his style anyway. Zexion must remember him, anyway. Right?

Then again, Demyx hadn't remembered any of _them_, yet they insisted that he'd been one of them at one point. Like that made any sense.

* * *

It didn't really make a lot of sense, but after _they_ came, he started making friends. With the other misfits, of course, but still. He was making friends _now_, when he was suddenly so weird? Well, who cared? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. 

All of his friends were a little odd, though (Just like him, right? It's not like he could really say anything). But hey, if he ever needed someone real to talk to, they were there, and he couldn't be more thankful. Having someone who didn't currently reside in his head to talk to was nice.

There was Yuffie, who was little…Eccentric. That's the nice way of putting it. Kleptomaniac was what he called her whenever she stole his homework. He felt a little bad about it later, but she didn't seem to mind. She'd probably been called it enough back in elementary school, and even then, she would probably just yell at them for disrespecting "The Great Ninja Yuffie".

And then Vivi, who was pretty clumsy and tagged along with another gang of kids a lot of the time. They treated him like dirt, but he hung around them anyway. Demyx didn't get it; he was a nice kid, why'd he hang out with such jerks?

Quina. Wow, Quina. Er… Well, Quina was really…interesting. Quina was from a town called the Qu Marsh, and was obsessed with food, and eating all kinds of different things. Also talked funny. Quina was the bane of the English teacher's existence. And come to think of it, Demyx had no idea if Quina was boy or a girl or what.

Both Quina and Vivi also knew Zidane. You've already heard about him. Along with him came Eiko, a clingy little six-year-old who _refused_ to go see Nurse Garnet. Ever. Even when her mom (Who happened to be the counselor, Mrs. Gainsborough, who Demyx had gotten to know quite well over the years. She was Dr. Strife's wife, too, interestingly enough) insisted.

…Now that he thought about it, he had the weirdest friends. Whatever. _They_'d been telling him that for years, anyway. Birds of feather flock together, or whatever that saying was.

* * *

School the next day was torture for Demyx. All of third and fifth period, he never once let his eyes stray upwards even once. He was afraid he might start staring at Zexion, and not be able to stop. And _they_ wouldn't shut up, speculating on everything. He had a little trouble concentrating, understandably. 

It was a relief to be able to go to lunch, where he could just space off and none of his friends would ask about it. They had all gotten used to it by now. Yuffie was always glad of it, since it gave her an easy way to steal things from him.

Of course, once he got to lunch, the voices stopped. Apparently, they'd run out of things to talk about. They'd probably start up again once he got to class, anyway. God, they were mean to him. So much for them being his friends.

As Yuffie began to systematically steal the food off of Demyx's lunch tray, Zidane dropped his tray on the table, along with a few of his friends. Eiko had managed to wriggle away from Beatrix, the school's resident police officer, and bounded up to Zidane. She plopped down across from him, swinging her legs.

"Hi Zidane!"

"Hey, Eiko. What'd you do today, huh?"

"Went to kindergarten, came here, got led around by stupid Beatrix. Same old stuff."

"Yeah, same stuff for me, too. Nurse Garnet _still_ won't say yes, and--"

"Hmph!" With that parting word, Eiko jumped from the table and stomped back to where Beatrix was standing, nose in the air. Demyx could barely contain his laughter.

"Um, I think you might have hurt her feelings," Vivi said, adjusting his hat.

"Maybe you should learn to avoid that topic of conversation around her," Demyx put it, snatching his cookie back from Yuffie with a hurt look.

Zidane sighed. "Oh, she'll get over it eventually. Now, what to do about Dagger…" he trailed off, propping his head on his hand and staring off into space.

"Hey, wait a minute. How come you just called her Dagger?" Demyx asked, perplexed. Dagger? Where did that come from?

"Huh? Oh, it's just a nickname I gave her. She won't let me call her that, course."

"I think it good nickname. Sound tough."

Demyx grinned. "Yeah, Quina's right. It's fitting. And I can't believe she hasn't said yes to you yet. You are so persistent about it, it's annoying _me_."

"Mhmm. What he said. You'd think she would have at least said yes by now to shut you up. I mean, I would've."

"Says you! You babble all the time, Yuffie."

"Hey! That's going to cost you a cookie!"

"Persistence good! People give you food you ask enough. My grandpa tell me that."

_As I've told you all before, with persistence, we can regain out hearts and be whole again._

_Superior, according to my calculations, that no longer matters, and—_

_I was simply making a point--_

_Xemnas, we're talking about Quina here. You shouldn't be taking Quina's advice._

_IX, I do not wish to be interrupted._

_Sheesh, sorry. Don't be mad…_

Demyx was snapped out of his reverie a second time, by another tray being laid onto the table. He looked up, and his green eyes were met by glassy blue ones. Zexion.

"Hey, Zexion!" he said, his grin seeping into his words. You could actually feel the happiness coming off of him in waves. Which is actually a little creepy if you think about it.

Zexion blinked through his curtain of hair. "How do you know my name?"

Demyx couldn't think of anything to say for a moment. Zexion was probably just messing with him, playing with his head. But…But what if he wasn't? Oh fuck, what if he was actually crazy? Well, if he was, he was. Not much he could really do about it. And he had probably answer Zexion soon, or he'd think that Demyx was some crazy psychopath stalker or something. That's what Demyx would do, anyway. Huh, maybe it didn't really fit in with Zexion's cool demeanor. Well, anyway.

"Er, well you introduced yourself to my class the other day…you're in my math class. And theater, too. Y'know, Mrs. Ruby?"

"Oh." And he sat down, and that was that.

* * *

And so it went. 

Zexion didn't know anybody in this school, since he'd just moved here from some hic-town or other, and Demyx was eager to get to know him (Though he'd had him living in his head for the past seven years). They became friends, and pretty good friends, at that.

And that was it. They were friends. Zexion _still_ didn't remember him at all. Demyx would be telling himself he was going to ask about it almost daily at one point, but his courage always seemed to fail him. Surely Zexion would think he was having hallucinations and then he'd be thrown into some mental hospital, and minus one Zexion.

_Aw, poor little Demy-poo, can't even ask Zexy one teensy question._

_Oh, shut up, Larxene. Nobody cares what you think._

_What?! How dare you—_

_It _is_ true, you must admit._

_Lexaeus, you know what, you can just go—_

_I agree with Lexaeus, Larxene. I'm sure if we took a survey, nobody would say they really take your opinion into much account._

_Fuck you, old man._

There was a version of this conversation every time Demyx thought about asking Zexion about _them_, so it was constantly running through his head. What he really needed was some peace.

* * *

One night, Zexion slept over at his house. He'd been there to help Demyx study, and by the time they'd finished (_They_ certainly weren't helping with his concentration in school), it was already so late, Zexion decided it'd just be easier to sleep there. Actually, Demyx had insisted (read: coerced) him into stay when he heard Zexion had never slept at someone else's house before. Zexion had pointed out that it was a really girly thing to do. Demyx pointed out that having half of your face covered in a mop of hair was a really emo thing to do, and the subject was dropped. 

But as they both lay awake, waiting for sleep to come, Zexion turned from his spot on the floor to look up at Demyx.

"Do you dream?"

"Huh?"

"Do you have dreams when you sleep? I mean, everybody had dreams, many people simply don't remember them, and then mistakenly think they don't dream. So, do you remember your dreams?"

Demyx rubbed the back of his head. He'd probably think he was insane if he told him about the dreams…

"Yeah. All the time."

"I have the oddest dreams. I can't think what in my subconscious would cause them…there are these blank white halls, and people in black coats…and you."

Demyx blinked. So maybe Zexion was just like him now, minus the annoying voices. Lucky bastard.

_Hey!_

So that's why he didn't remember. He should tell him about the voices. In the morning though, he was tired.

* * *

Their lips melded and tongues fought, clothing was pulled off and tossed away. Skin brushed and passion flared, and it all had such a dreamlike quality, even when it hadn't been a dream. But then he'd been able to see the face, to see who it was that he was giving this all up too. And he'd had this dream before, but he never had been able to see a face, no matter how many times he'd had it. But no he could see it a bit, in between the passion, a mop of slate-colored hair, piercing blue eyes. 

Demyx was rather unnerved when he woke up, understandably. And none of _them_ had anything to say about it.

* * *

And life went on, almost perfectly normal. 

It was a few weeks before Demyx could make eye contact with Zexion, and in the morning he said nothing about him having dreams as well.

And no matter how many times he shouted questions in his head, none of _them_ would give him any answers.

_Well, why should we?_

_If I knew, I'd tell you, but I don't…I'm sorry._

_Damn, Naminé, you're so sweet my proverbial perfect teeth are rotting._

_You know such a big word as proverbial? Never would've guessed._

_Gotta say, it surprises me too, kid._

Yep, they were so helpful it hurt. And this was the one thing he couldn't talk to his real friends about. He just couldn't. Well, he actually might be able to tell Eiko, because she'd just latch on to the lovey-dovey part of it and not care about anything else, but he was not spilling his troubles to a six-year-old.

* * *

Dr. Strife checked on him after a month. Demyx smiled a fake smile, and pretended everything was fine. Because it was. It was just a dream, didn't mean anything. He'd been using the same façade for years now, why was it suddenly so hard? It had only been hard at first, Demyx wasn't really much for faking things. 

But he couldn't really believe it didn't mean anything. All his other dreams followed the same theme, white halls, black coats… He thought they were real. And if they were, than this one had to be too.

So he either had to deal with the dream, or deal with being a complete nut-job. What wonderful choices he had.

* * *

Finally, it was time for senior graduation. The whole auditorium was full of happy faces. The parents, because they were so glad that their kids had finally made it through high school (And would be out of their hair after just one more summer), and the students because, duh, they were out of school. The seniors, especially. Sure, a good deal of them still had college, but at least their parents wouldn't be nagging at them anymore. 

Demyx was probably one of the only people here who wasn't completely happy. He wasn't sad, per se, more anxious, really. After months of trying to pluck up the courage to tell Zexion about the dreams, he was going to do it. Now. Not because of any special sort of revelation or anything like that. He just probably wouldn't get to talk with Zexion much in the summer (He barely saw the guy outside of school), and then he might never do it. It would be so great to finally tell someone about all of it.

He sat between Eiko and Quina, watching all the students walk up to receive their diplomas. It was a little hard to hear, due to the commentary playing in his head.

_And our next contestant is… Let's see…_

_Mr. Nerdy-nerd-face-who's-going-to-spend-the-rest-of-his-life-playing-World-of-Warcraft!_

_Thanks, Larxene. If you can walk up on the stage, Mr. Nerd, you're going to win…A BRAND NEW CAR!_

_Axel, shut the fuck up already, will you?_

_Aw, c'mon, Roxy—_

_I don't care what you have to say about all these people, and call me Roxy again and I'll castrate you, no body be damned._

"Graduation good. Mean you can travel far away, find more food," Quina commented.

_What is that guy…girl…well, what's Quina _on_, anyway?_

"Uh, yeah. Sure, Quina."

"I hope Zidane doesn't move far away," Eiko muttered, the thought bringing a momentary pout to her face. As if on cue, Zidane walked onto the stage to get his diploma. Demyx jumped to his feet and cheered, along with Eiko and various other students.

"I no get it. Why cheer when there no food yet?"

Grabbing his diploma, Zidane grinned, waltzed off the stage to where Nurse Garnet was sitting, and kissed her full on the mouth.

Garnet stood up indignantly, hands on her hips. Eiko jumped from her seat, and left the gym. There was a loud bang as the doors snapped shut.

Laughter resounded around the room, and Principal Steiner had to clear his throat several times before he could continue calling people up.

* * *

Sometimes, epiphanies can come at the strangest times. And from the strangest things (Like a graduation ceremony).

* * *

After giving a grinning congratulations to Zidane, Demyx had to shove past hordes of people to make it to the door, a technique that was usually only needed for getting to the front of the lunch line. Zexion had long since gone by the time he finally made it out of the gym. He hurried to the front doors, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Zexion sitting on a bench. 

"Hey, Zexy."

"Don't call me that, Ni—Demyx."

"Wha—Nevermind. There's something I need to, y'know, talk to you about. All that cliché shit."

"Yes?"

"Um, you remember that time I forced you to sleep over at my house? And you told me about weird dreams you had?"

"I remember. You and your _girly_ sleep-overs…"

"Well…I guess I just never really got a chance to tell you, or whatever. But…Those dreams. I have them too."

"…"

"A-and…and those people. With the black coats in the dreams, y'know? I hear them. Like, in my head. And I know it sounds crazy and everything, but it's _true_, they're there, and they're real, they have to be, and you were one of them, and…"

Zexion just blinked at him, not saying anything.

"Look, you have to believe me, you said you have those dreams too! Please, Zexy, please remember, I…I was thinking at the graduation, I think I, I might…Please, don't…"

_I wish I could get some popcorn for this._

_Hey, maybe I can be useful after all. That's nice._

_Naminé, don't you dare, this is too fun to watch._

_Sorry, Larxene. I'm not a _witch_, like you._

_Ooh, she got you there, Larxene._

_Hmph._

Demyx blabbered on some more, but after a moment, everything went black (again). All this fainting seriously couldn't be good for him.

* * *

It all came back. All of it. He could remember everything. And not just in blurs, it was so clear it hurt. To remember how awful it had been, with no hearts. 

_Thanks, Naminé. I really owe you one. But, couldn't you have done that, I dunno, sooner, maybe?_

_Um…well, at least it didn't take a year for this…_

* * *

When Demyx woke up, he was happier than he'd felt in ages. It all made perfect sense now. Nothing had ever made sense before. 

He grinned, and once Zexion came to, he kissed him. There was an indignant squawk, and Demyx ran off towards his home, laughing all the way.

* * *

After another month, Zexion finally agreed to listen to the memories "_That have no basis in science and make no logical sense at all…"_ and said yes when Demyx asked him out. 

He was really listening to something else, however.

* * *

The voices disappeared, one by one. Then they were all gone, and for a while, it seemed oddly quiet without the constant jabbering in his head. It _was_ nice to have a bit of privacy, frankly. 

And so there was something tangible for him to touch and see and hear, and that was all. Zexion was so much more than that, though.

And best of all, he wasn't just a voice in his head anymore. Even if those voices had been real. They were probably all out there somewhere. Demyx hoped that they could find each other someday. Zexion just said he'd die happy if he never had to see Larxene again, and Demyx couldn't exactly disagree.

So, in fact, against all odds, they got their happily ever after.

The End.

* * *

FUCKING FUCK ON A FUCK, IT'S _DONE_, BITCHES. Writer's block for the fucking _fail_. I've never written anything this long before (And it's not even really that long, I've read much longer oneshots before.). Hell, I've never written anything (decent) over a thousand words before. Blarg. And it took like, a month and a week to finally get it all typed out. And then it was sitting here in this Word document for another week or two, because I kept editing 'cause I didn't like it and I changed most of the ending and GJERSDKO. Quina's dialogue is really really fun to write D Too bad I couldn't have put more of it in. Though writing about…um…him/her is really freaking annoying, because I can't use pronouns. Like, at all. WHY COULDN'T THE FF9 PEOPLE JUST DECIDE ON A GENDER AND NOT KEEP CALLING QUINA S/HE IN THE DIALOGUE? WHY? Anyway. If you notice anything messed up with the page breaks and dividers, could you tell me? FF always messes those up for me. 

Inspired by the song Lithium by Nirvana, which is permanently stuck in my head because at one point, it was impossible to write this without listening to it. Share and enjoy. Oh, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd **review**, just to tell me what you think. It would truly make my day. Fr srs. Yes. Shutting up now.


End file.
